A little history letter to the editor

Dear Editor

When I read about things of the past it makes me remember. I grew up west of town in the Wright 2nd Addition. We didn’t have many neighbors, but a large family named Sullivan lived across the street. The word “Red Dam” was kinda a hallowed name. I never knew what purpose the dam served. It may have been to keep the water that ran off Scenic Mt. From running into the Anderson and Bostick houses. One Easter Mr. and Mrs. Sullivan took a load of children to “red Dam” for an Easter Egg Hunt. Mr. Sullivan had a horse and it was hooked up to an old flat bed trailer. Every kid in the neighborhood who wanted to road on the flat bed trailer. Some walked along side. We rode across Harding Street and the Anderson Farm to get to Red Dam. I’m sure we had a good picnic lunch and Easter Egg Hunt. I don’t think I found an Easter Egg because I fell down and skinned my knee, so I spent some time crying. It seems I always had a skinned knee so I must have been a clumsy kid. When they cut around the mountain to extend highway FM 70 to meet U.S. 80 they must have cut part of Red Dam off. I knew that Red Dam was always a favorite hunting place for all the young boys. Just a memory now.

Other families lived in the Sullivan house after they moved to be closer to Aunt Florence. The Sullivans were related to another Howard

County family. Bonnie Gill Franklin’s family lived in the Sullivan house at one time and she and my sister, Joann, were good friends.

Another family named John and Leila Buchanan, also lived in the Sullivan House. The Airport Baptist Church was organized and became a wonderful place for the young people in the neighborhood. Leila became my Sunday School teacher.

We wondered where Mr. Buchanan went several times a week as he walked to Highway 80. We found out later that he would hitchhike until someone picked him up. Then he would travel several miles with them and teach them about Jesus Christ, our savior, and then he would change to the other side of the road and teach to whoever picked him up as they brought him home. I’m sure this was a very intriguing way that Bro. John spent his later years.